The Needle in the Granite Haystack
by Dani-Ellie03
Summary: Emma didn't know how to make sense of any of it. She didn't even really know what she was trying to accomplish by finding Ingrid's stone down here. She just couldn't shake the feeling that it would help somehow. (or, Emma searches for Ingrid's headstone in the Underbrooke cemetery with the help of Killian and her parents)


**Author's Note:** An anonymous prompt on Tumblr: "If you ever feel the need to write a prompt fic, I would love to see Snow and David catch Emma sneaking away to look for Ingrid's tombstone in underbrooke. Emma's complex feelings towards Ingrid and her death was something I wanted to see." I absolutely loved this prompt because I do so enjoy exploring the complicated emotions Emma would feel for Ingrid, so here we be! Feedback makes my day so very much better! Enjoy. :)

* * *

Emma Swan heaved an exasperated sigh and wondered not for the first time why she was even doing this. It was one thing to search for the proverbial needle in a haystack. It was another thing entirely to search a haystack for a needle she wasn't entirely sure was even present.

A comforting arm slid around her shoulders and she found herself unconsciously snuggling into Killian's embrace. The little touches and physical affection had been coming more easily even before Emma sacrificed herself to the darkness. Now, after the darkness and Camelot and Killian's sacrifice in Storybrooke, Emma helped herself to as much physical comfort and affection from her pirate as she could. He'd been taken from her twice – three times, technically, if she wanted to count the craziness from when they were trapped in the Author-created book universe – and she refused to let him go again.

"Still can't find it, love?" he asked, his voice soft in her ear.

She heaved another sigh. "Nope."

She felt as if they'd walked miles around this damn cemetery multiple times since arriving in the Underworld. At first, her focus had been solely on finding Killian. To her intense relief, she'd found him and freed him from Hades' torture and he had finally forgiven himself enough for his past to want to go home, to build a future with her.

The trick now was getting home, which was proving to be infinitely more difficult. Considering how difficult getting down here and finding him was in the first place, that was saying something.

But since they'd been down here, they'd discovered some of the rules of the land. The cemetery was basically a big giant census record of everyone who'd ever set foot in the Underworld. Unfortunately searching this census record had to be done the old-fashioned way.

"Maybe she never even came down here," Emma continued after a beat. "Maybe she just went straight to wherever like Neal did."

She felt Killian shake his head. "No, love. The life she led … she most definitely came here. Her stone has to be in this cemetery somewhere."

Emma sighed again. She didn't even know why this mattered so much to her. The memories Ingrid had returned to her had also returned all that anger, all that betrayal she'd felt for over a decade. The woman had been nothing but awful to both her and Elsa in Storybrooke. She'd played games and manipulated everyone and had gone after Emma's family. She'd gone after everyone in some kind of twisted bid to keep Elsa and Emma all to herself.

But other memories had returned, too, memories of jokes being told during what had felt to Emma like real family dinners, of celebrations of good grades on papers and tests. Memories of school artwork hung on the wall, of playing board games or cards in the evenings. Memories of shopping trips, of day trips to the fair.

Memories of the time someone _wanted_ her.

It was confusing, to say the least. Part of Emma wanted to rage and scream and throw things against the wall but part of her wept for the loss of what might have been.

And she didn't know how to make sense of any of it. She didn't even really know what she was trying to accomplish by finding Ingrid's stone down here. She just couldn't shake the feeling that it would help somehow.

Emma's gaze traveled to her parents, who were still talking with Regina and Henry and trying to come up with an escape plan. Every so often, either her mother or father – hell, sometimes both at the same time – would shoot her a little concerned glance.

Killian's voice was once again soft in her ear. "You still haven't told them, have you."

It wasn't a question. Emma just shook her head in response. How the hell was she supposed to explain this to her parents? How could she make them understand why she wanted to find Ingrid's when she didn't even understand it herself? "They're not going to get it, Killian. Hell, _I_ don't even get it. Part of me feels like I shouldn't even care. She tried to kill everyone I love. But the other part of me ..."

"The other part of you did care about her once and now wants to make sure she's in a better place," Killian finished for her.

She nodded, swallowing hard. That was it in a nutshell.

"I understand, Emma. She was cruel to you but she also loved you once. And though it may have been years ago with many things happening in the meantime, you loved her once, too. I understand that dichotomy probably better than anyone."

She looked up at him, searching his eyes. "Your father?"

He nodded. "Emotions are complicated things, love, and they're not all or nothing. You can be angry with her and still care about her. After all, if you didn't care about her on some level, what she did wouldn't have hurt so much."

Well, then. She'd never really thought about it like that.

Emma swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "When did you get so wise?" she asked, injecting her voice with a teasing lilt in an effort to defuse some of the emotional tension they both were feeling.

To Emma's relief, Killian chuckled. "I've had a couple of centuries during which to learn."

Now it was her turn to chuckle. They let the moment lapse into a comfortable silence.

After a beat or two, Emma said, "You still think I should tell my parents, don't you."

"They just want to be there for you. They're not going to be angry with you or feel betrayed when you let them know about your search, if that's what you're worried about. They just want to help you and make sure you're all right. Give them a chance to be your parents."

Emma looked over at her mom and dad again and let out a soft sigh. "Well, when you put it like that ..."

Killian smiled.

* * *

Snow had noticed it almost immediately. Emma had found Killian, which was the first hurdle, and he had fully agreed to come back to Storybrooke with them, which was the second. They still had to clear the third, which was getting their names off the headstones so they could in fact leave, but they were working on it. Though things weren't nearly a hundred percent settled, they were much better than they had been when Killian was trapped in Hades' torture chamber or when he wasn't sure he deserved a second chance at life.

Which was why her baby girl's new habit of scanning the names on each and every headstone they passed stuck out like a sore thumb. Something told Snow that this wasn't just idle curiosity on her daughter's part, either. No, Emma was looking for someone. That much was certain.

And what was also certain was that Emma had been unable to find whomever she was searching for.

She and Killian had detached themselves from the group on what was ostensibly a break from the so far fruitless processing summit they'd all convened in the cemetery. It was clear to Snow, though, that Emma had attempted yet another small search and even now, her disappointment was written across her features.

Snow longed to run over and pull her baby girl into a tight hug and tell her everything was going to be okay. She didn't dare, though. The ordeal with Emma's earlier nightmare-slash-vision had taught her a thing or two about patience when it came to dealing with her baby girl's emotions. If she just gave Emma the time, she would open up on her own when she was ready.

A glance up at Charming proved that he, too, was watching Emma with a concerned eye. "Is she all right, you think?" he asked without taking his eyes off his daughter and her pirate.

"I'm not sure," Snow answered honestly, "but I think we should leave it alone for now. She'll come to us when she's ready." He raised his eyebrows at her, suitably impressed with how she was choosing to handle the situation. She grinned. "And it goes without saying that we'll keep our eye on her."

At that, he chuckled. "It goes without saying, indeed."

When Emma and Killian returned to the group a few minutes later, Emma's agitation was crystal clear. She was frustrated, that much was certain, but Snow also detected a little bit of nervousness in her posture.

Not that she said a single word about whatever was bothering her. She simply nodded her agreement with the new interim plan, which was heading to the Underworld version of Granny's for an early dinner.

As they headed out of the cemetery, a stubborn Emma ran her eyes over the stones they passed. Her disappointment continued to grow to the point that Snow had to fight to resist the intense urge to wrap her baby girl in a tight, comforting hug. Charming wrapped his arm around her shoulders, a comforting gesture of his own. Snow smiled sadly up at him, a smile he returned.

After a moment, Killian glanced over his shoulder from Snow to Charming. Then he returned his attention to Emma and brought the hand that was entwined in his up to kiss it. "I'm going to catch up with the lad, love," he murmured, giving Emma a smile. And then before she could protest, he quickened his pace to meet up with Henry.

Emma paused in her tracks and stared after him a moment before turning to her parents with a heavy sigh. "We're working on his subtlety."

They both smiled at their little girl as they flanked her, Snow on her right and Charming on her left. The decision to speak her mind had to be Emma's but that didn't mean her parents couldn't offer her a silent show of support.

She stared out at the headstones surrounding them for a long moment before finally looking them in the eye. "Mom? Dad?"

Her baby girl sounded so young and so vulnerable that Snow's heart clenched in her chest. With most of her walls gone, Snow could now see the emotion swimming in Emma's eyes. She was frustrated and disappointed, yes, but she was also confused and maybe even a little scared. "What is it, baby?" Snow asked gently.

"I'm sure you've noticed that Killian and I keep disappearing ..."

She let the sentence trail off. In an effort to bring her back to somewhat more comfortable ground, Charming must have decided some teasing was in order. "Of course I've noticed," he said, arching a very overprotective-dad eyebrow at his daughter.

Emma rolled her eyes while hiding a smile. "It's nothing like that. Get your mind out of the gutter. _Anyway_ , the reason we keep disappearing is I've been looking for someone. Someone's stone here in the cemetery, I mean."

Yes, they'd both gathered that. Sensing that her daughter needed one final bit of comfort so she could finally tell them what was on her mind, Snow reached down and grasped her hand. Emma squeezed back, took a deep breath, and said, "I've been looking for Ingrid."

Snow felt her heart skip a beat at her daughter's confession. She and Charming had only known Ingrid as the Snow Queen, as the woman who tried to take their little girl from them in one of the cruelest ways imaginable.

But to a young Emma, Ingrid had been a guardian. More than that, actually. Emma had shown them the file Ingrid had kept of her school papers and drawings. It was the kind of file a parent kept, proudly saving their child's work. Despite whatever happened afterward, Snow couldn't deny that Ingrid had cared for their daughter during those few months she lived with her.

And so, despite the irrational twinge of pain and jealousy Snow felt at hearing that her baby girl was looking for someone who had hurt her so deeply, she gave her daughter's hand a comforting squeeze.

"It's natural that you want to know what happened to her, Emma," Charming said as he lightly gripped his daughter's other hand. "She was an important part of your life, kiddo. She cared for you when we couldn't and it seemed to me, from what little I saw of the evidence of your time together, that you really connected with her."

"I did," Emma admitted, swallowing hard. Snow could tell that she was trying very hard to fight tears. "I feel like I should be so angry with her now because what she did to Elsa and Anna and me was so terrible but at the same time, I did love her once and she loved me. It may not have been a healthy love but she loved me. She … she was the only one who ever _wanted_ me."

The tears she'd been trying to hide spilled over at that, and Snow and Charming simultaneously drew her into a tight, comforting hug. Oh, their poor sweet little girl.

"Sometimes I wish she hadn't returned my memories," Emma whispered into their ears. "It would be easier then. I wouldn't know that she wanted me once."

"No," Charming murmured roughly. "Don't wish for that, Emma. You deserve to have some childhood memories of being loved and wanted. Don't let what came afterward ruin the happy memories for you."

She tightened her arms around her parents at that, and for a long beat, they just held her. Then Snow pulled away and cupped her daughter's cheeks in her palms. "I understand, Emma, probably more than you realize. Regina did so many terrible things. She took my father from me, she drove me from my home, she took _you_ from me. But she's also my stepmother. She helped raise me and I love her, too. I completely understand how complicated and confusing your feelings about Ingrid must be."

Emma swallowed hard and sniffed back the rest of her tears.

"We'd like to help you look," Charming said as Snow dropped her arms back to her sides, "if you'd be willing to let us."

"I can't believe you two are being so good about this," Emma sniffled.

"Why wouldn't we be?" Snow asked. "You're our little girl. We'll always help you with whatever you need. You just have to ask, all right?"

Emma nodded, giving her a somewhat sheepish smile. "All right."

"Come on, kiddo," Charming said, holding out his hand to his daughter, "let's go find her."

"What, now? Everyone else is on their way to Bizarro Granny's."

"I'm sure they'll wait for us," Snow assured her. "Now … is there an area you haven't checked?"

A grateful Emma pointed to a small hill ahead of them. "I haven't seen what's down there yet."

And beyond that little hill, they found the proverbial pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. After only ten minutes of walking, Snow said, "Emma, look. Is that it/"

It certainly was. The thick white stone lay on its back on the ground, "Ingrid of Arendelle" engraved on its face in ornate black letters.

"It's tipped over," Emma whispered, tears welling in her eyes as she crouched down and traced the first few letters with her index finger. "No cracks. She got her happily ever after with her sisters after all."

Charming and Snow once again flanked their little girl as she stood up straight. "You all right, baby?" Snow asked, unable to resist the urge to brush her thumb down Emma's cheek.

"Yeah," Emma said, blinking as the tears spilled over. Then she broke away from them and picked a wild daisy growing along the edge of the walkway. Snow smiled sadly; hopefully this would provide her baby girl with a bit of closure.

Snow's hope only grew when Emma lay the daisy on top of the fallen stone and whispered, "Goodbye, Ingrid." Then Emma turned around and grabbed Snow's hand in one of hers and Charming's in the other. "Come on. The rest of our family is waiting."

As one, Snow and Charming pulled her into a hug. "We love you, kiddo," Charming murmured. "Always."

And Snow's heart soared, as it always did when it came to her daughter, when Emma whispered back, "I love you, too."


End file.
